


Ghost of Koprulu

by IamBrohkai



Category: StarCraft (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28844265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamBrohkai/pseuds/IamBrohkai
Summary: Many years after the events of One People, One Purpose there has been a growing loss of protoss ships. Lost within the further reaches of their home sector. Exploratory and battle cruisers alike disappear into the darkness or found scattered across planets and moons. No survivors are ever found and Hierarch Artanis gathers a fleet to hunt down the culprit. Little is he aware of the danger that lurks as old but tenuous allegiances are remade again.
Relationships: Alarak/Artanis (StarCraft)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Onwards Amongst the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> -  
> This is a deeply self indulgent project I have taken on and it may take time between chapters. For every chapter I write is being drawn out in comic form and being a one cryptid army definitely slows things down!  
> But for warning, there will be graphic depictions of gore and trauma later on. Anything explicit will be cut out and put into a different chapter list~  
> Beyond this, I hope you enjoy the trip I wish to take. Filled with head canons of my own making and original characters from both myself and my friends.  
> -

The loss of the binding light between people, the Khala had continued to burn rifts through a once prideful people. The dream for a united Protoss grows ever distant as years tread on and old squabbles once more rise to the surface. A glaring difference in mind sets and people, differences now laid out into the open more readily without the emotional connection of the Khala. Prideful Protoss that refused to set aside the caste system and the tense relations with both Nerazim and the Purifiers.

Those that still felt alone amongst the masses.

With the antics of Lantharis, the false hope for a new Khala gave birth to a new internal struggle. Splintered groups skittered beneath the surface in desperate search for that old connection, to feel as a whole, as one people once more. Unnecessary deaths have occured from these groups as they tampered in powers that had best be left untouched.

But the dream still continued to show through in others. Coordination amongst different sects of a once segregated people. Those that dissolved the old ways and boldly tread onto something different. Friendships and families forged. Khalai found kinship amongst Nerazim, Purifiers discovered a new purpose amongst those that once upon a time saw them as weapons. As machines. Then there was the Tal’darim that broke off from the chain, to disregard all that they believed in for something new. To become a part of the Daelaam.

It is this unity that the Hierarch hoped to shape into those that still doubted in his dream. Those that still saw through the mindset of Lantharis and of the dissolved Conclave. An uphill battle that he must still climb, for the sake of his own people.

They just needed a spark…

However Artanis had not asked for the spark to be one forged through battle, yet it may be a necessary one. Whispered amongst the Terrans is word of ships gone missing, fleets wiped clean and left within fields of debris. Some say zerg, others say it’s the Tal’darim Death Fleet. Or it could very well be other humans, pirates, or one of the many hundreds of splintered groups of their people.

Whatever it may be, whomever it may be, there too has been a loss of protoss ships that have traversed outside of their home space. Small fleets presumed destroyed or left...eerily abandoned, adrift amongst the stars. The most grand of ships was nothing more than a field of debris, or crashed against moons and planets. Another incident was the loss of a handful of carriers that were found scattered across a Terran mining planet. Both protoss and the resident humans were eradicated...but only the bodies of his own people were never recovered. More souls lost when there already were so few of his people left behind. The war against the dark god himself took the lives of many proud warriors and those not meant for battle.

A tough choice was to be made and he will not make demands of his people. Should they have stepped into the jaws of a new war. Too many have given their all and have earned their peace upon their rebuilt home.

And yet……….

Talons interlock behind his back, dirt scuffed beneath his feet and took the few final steps to crest the top of a hill. Where he is greeted by the warmth of the setting sun’s light over his face. Clouds painted in vibrant pinks and purples that bled into sharp oranges and reds. Colors slowly faded at his back to darkening blues and sparkled by stars. The sun’s light too glittered across distant shapes of new Aldera. Home. A delicate balance of tensions, friendships and individuality all encircled in one place. A home for all Protoss. One of which they may need to fight once more to preserve for the generations to come. Maybe one day he and his people will find an everlasting peace, but battle always found its way back.

Their blades will be ready.

A call to arms has already been cast out amongst the Daelaam when his feet guided him to a place of calm. To feel the breath of Aiur as she drifted to sleep for the night and the sounds of nightly wildlife awakened. A buzz of insects and softened chirrups of birds settled into the trees above. One final night to be spent at home as light from their star winked out beneath the horizon. The warmth he’d once felt ebbed away and left an odd tension, twisted into his chest. Fingers curled tighter and threatened to pierce skin before they relented and fell away to his sides. The night’s darkness ebbed forward and devoured the light that had just spanned over the mountains. A chill drifted with it’s approach, a quick wind of cold churned through his robes. As if a reminder that darkness always returned, one way or another. This light that they have lived under since the dark god’s death was but a brief reprieve and it had begun to wane. Another wash of night was upon them.

Still he questioned his decision to tread into the areas where the attacks have occurred. To have no evidence of the attacker left him puzzled and concerned. The Terrans were fearful, as they rightfully should be. Entire protoss fleets gone without a whisper did not bode well for any of the races within Koprulu. However this very well could be the work of rogue and highly skilled Terrans who have overstepped their boundaries. Their attacks have come with increased boldness in their desire for stronger weapons. The technology his people held was often sought after by the humans.

If it was indeed the work of the Tal’darim, Artanis knew fully the danger to contest them would be. Their ferocity and dedication in battle he witnessed first hand many years ago, in the battle waged for Aiur. Alarak alone was a formidable foe and one primed with chaotic psionics. Artanis too had seen such in person when he aided the once Ascendant’s Rak’shir.

Then came the thought of the zerg…

How quiet they have become over the years as they’ve kept themselves within the local systems of Charr. He held no trust in the swarm, even without their Queen of Blades at the helm. It only made him far more uneasy to not understand the mind of the queen that did lead them. Zagara.

Or this danger could be of something new. Too many possibilities for him to sit soundly upon Aiur. Not when this serenity was threatened by the unknown. He had ignored the signs of danger in the past and a hefty price was paid that day. Eyes slid closed as brows drew together with the churned memory. The final flicker of life disappeared from the eyes of a friend, whose warnings were left unheard.

A slow sigh exhaled out as his head lifted, eyes directed out towards saalok. The pale moon lazily drifted above and offered him a remaining glimmer of light. It is in this darkness that he must remain certain and decisive if they were to be guided onto the correct path. This choice to follow and discover the danger that loomed felt correct, but something deep down screamed out. Told him to remain steadfast and safe upon Aiur. This voice made his choice falter time and time again. For when he left it may be some time again before he sees these stars, this moon, felt this dirt against his feet...but he promised he will return again.

Home ever called.

The wash of void at his back put a quick pause on his thoughts, head twitched to cast a gaze out over his shoulder. The psionic splash from another both surprised and yet comforted as dark mists twisted away from her form. A sweep of purples and decorative golds melded out from a smear of inky black. Friendly green eyes that held a question turned up to him as she approached.

“Matriarch Vorazun? I had not anticipated a visitor tonight,” Artanis greets with an offered nod of his head, weight shifted to turn towards her.

“Hierarch,” her head dipped in quickly returned respect but her brows kneaded together with concern again. “I am uneasy about your decision to chase after this ghost within the edges of our space. Not when so much trouble still stirred from within, Artanis. Your people need you here upon Aiur.” Her gaze turned towards the lights of the city, face pulled with worry. He could pick out the tension in her psionics, a twisted net of static unseen by most eyes. It plucked at her silks and danced just over the gold but it was far more noticeable within the green gems. Where it stirred and churned. She did not approve of what was to come.

The air twisted briefly as his own uncertainty spiked before it calmed with a quick nod of his head. If he doubted so would she, “Much still troubles our people, Vorazun. Nor is it a quick fix as we have discovered with the actions of Lantharis. Others will follow her footsteps, others already have begun to try.” With a slow turn he again looked out towards Aldera, a hand lifted to cup it beneath the line of lights. A slow curl of his fingers as a short chuckle is eased into the air, one that lacked the usual humor and confidence, “But I alone cannot force our people to coexist, to forge bonds together as your people have learned to do for generations. My own still struggle with the emptiness of where the Khala once rested and it may take many years yet to feel whole.”

He held a pause, eyes narrowed upon the distant city. A dulled thrum of his psionics sparked over his shoulders and up against the clamps of his nerve cords, “I cannot help them take those final steps, those final leaps into something new. In time they will understand the necessity of oneself. To become a person over following a flow of thought from countless others. It is easy...for I too once fell into the waves of thought and emotion. To be one of a whole and consumed by it, but I was not ‘Artanis’. It takes courage to begin finding oneself amongst many.” Friendly blue eyes fell back upon Vorazun who still held skepticism but offered a short nod, “Once they find themselves, only then can they begin to find others to fill the void of where the Khala stood. It is difficult to guide them all onto the new path, with everyone being unique. No one path is the correct one to tread.”

Hand withdrawn as his weight shifted to turn again towards the city. Artanis stepped up and closer to the edge of the cliff to feel the waft of wind when it swirled up from below. A sharpened chill as it cut into his skin like a fine blade. 

“It is also my duty to ensure they have the chance to find themselves again. To maintain this peace. To protect and safeguard our home, one that many have sacrificed themselves for,” the Hierarch’s head tilted upwards, eyes focused upon brighter specks in the sky. Ships drifted in orbit high above. “There is no doubt of the danger ahead, many ships of our own have been taken, left in ruins across the stars or scattered amongst worlds. Many left abandoned with not a soul aboard! I will discover the reasoning behind these attacks and strike down those that threaten us again!”

Her lighter steps followed in closer to him and she stepped up to join the Hierarch. The air around her twisted with further questions that were unspoken with a dull buzz of psionic energies. The soft sparks eased from the air as she let out a sigh, “Adun toridas, Artanis. May your hunt be successful and see to it our people are safe. I will not doubt your judgement for it did not lead us astray before.” Vorazun would direct her own gaze upwards, to the stars above. The air around her twisted again with the spark of unease, “I will send my Dark Templar with you. They will guarantee your safe return and the tracking of this ghost in the darkness.”

Artanis blinked and turned his attention to her, a wave of gratitude washed through the air, “You do not need to risk your own people but I am grateful for the assistance. They may be the deciding factor in whatever battles are ahead of me. Their skills in tracking even the most elusive of entities will be of a necessity. However I request that you remain here as I have done with my other Executors,” a gentle thump of his hand as it rested against his chest. “If I am not to return, it will guarantee that my people and yours still have a leader to look up to. I will relay what I find back to Aiur and if I am in need of assistance I shall call upon you.”

Green eyes narrowed upon him, sharp judgement he had grown far too accustomed to. For a moment she was all but still, not even her psionics sparked as she regarded his request. A twitch of a hand as she’d then turn, movement so abrupt it nearly startled him. A murmur of agreement picked up so light the wind itself could’ve silenced it as she departed. A wash of darkness cloaked her away and she descended down the path he had climbed. Artanis watched the smoke disperse in silence, stood there...momentarily frozen. The brewed unease returned.

Something about the foe he is to find felt different.

In the few clashes with Terrans they’ve had in these past years have oftentimes left Terran ships destroyed over his own. Scorched hulls with scattered indents were clear signs of their strikes. Bodies found and more than enough survivors to return to him to condemn the ‘lesser life forms’. The loss of Urun being one such incident that still brought enough trouble to his station. From those of the Auriga tribe and many, many others that shared their views. But most terrans have maintained their distance...even when the peace talks have ceased some years ago. Albeit the peace maintained is strenuous and not fully maintained by the humans. Their greed often superseded whatever truce was born from the events of the past. In time, Artanis feared the actions of the few will override whatever trust Raynor and his people had built. With a few generations of their kind...

Zerg? Horrifically bloodied battles and one will find ten or twenty zerg corpses to one protoss. Ship interiors torn asunder by their teeth and talons, along with bodies of both races strewn into strips. Yet another force that too has rarely tread much further from its hive clusters.

A slow turn as he again looked back to the city, face pulled into thought. The battles with Tal’darim leave scattered corpses, they care little to retrieve their dead or the dead of the Daelaam. Their attacks often leave little behind beyond a debris field of destruction...yet survivors still escaped their strikes. Or they in return left with few of their kind and their ships destroyed. Both sides have lost enough and grew far too familiar to the other’s tactics. A dangerous dance along certain borders in the sector. A border that ever changed with the shuffled presence of the Tal’darim fleet. However there too had been far fewer attacks from Tal’darim and he had not heard wind of their fleet in some time. He chalked it up to that they had settled themselves much further from Aiur and the systems around. Their Highlord frustrated by the loss of ships to the Daelaam, but such may not be the case.

Are they also being attacked by this ghost?

Who or what attacked and left not a sign behind...even amongst Tal’darim? No bodies to retrieve or entire ships simply disappeared? Not a soul to tell the story. Questions spurred into the air as little psionic sparks danced into the darkened night, joined by light bugs. There was nothing for him to formulate a proper plan upon, no information on who may be this threat that loomed in the shade. To step blind into jaws that awaited wide open…

How many are to die if he made the wrong decision? They already were few. Over and over he thought over whom it may be. Be it Zerg, Terran or Tal’darim. Who attacked his people? The fear of someone new drove a chilled dagger into his hearts. It made his previous interactions and knowledge moot. A leader must be sure of themselves and there he stood, lost within doubt.

A harsher crackle of blue energy danced up along his spine, skittered just over the layer of fabric he wore. Deep breath pulled in to lure himself out of the stupor of despair. A short and sharp shake of his head, the clatter of nerve cords that draped across his chest. Back bristled he straightened again, eyes settled again upon the city ahead. He will guide them as he had these many years and will guarantee the safety of the Daelaam.

The safety of Aiur.

“My life...for Aiur.”

Words that echoed into his mind as his steps crunched over dirt. Quietly Artanis slipped away from the cliff’s edge and down the path he’d taken. Dirt shifted to grass and overgrown brush. He all but disappeared into the darkened forest, the vague shape of a path laid before his feet. His gaze drifted out into the far distance, where the scars of the wars long past still remain visible. Sharp shapes visible between the foliage of trees. Decayed corpses of ships scattered over the mountains before him, mingled amongst dried and sun bleached bones of zerg monstrosities. A silent and burnt reminder of what they endured. That war is an ever constant shadow. One that trailed behind them with each step they took into the light. Should they fall behind then it will engulf them again. As its teeth nipped at their heels and its claws danced across their backs. But they have the strength to turn and face it head on when the times demanded of it.

Even when turning to face it is often the hardest choice one may make. A wash of memories flooded into his mind as his feet led him between overgrown hulls of dragoons, immortals, and what remained of zealots. Rusted shapes, overgrown by weeds and flora. Warriors whose names he did not get a chance to know. Fallen to the zerg swarms that conquered Aiur. Names lost to time but their effort not to be forgotten or to be in vain. Even as he passed them in the silence of night he regarded each, another soul lost in defense of Aiur. A voice he may have heard amongst the many that day as the Khala burned with pain and anger. His hand paused upon one empty chassis to another, head dipped and eyes slipped closed.

The burn of the Khala that day still yet plagued him, an old wound that refused to heal. All he remembered was the agony that raced through it that day. No longer did it shine with light and hope but it drowned within a tide of torment. He remembered the screams and the fear of countless protoss, trapped within their homes or caught amongst the streets. A growing emptiness he now felt today had spread across the Khala as they were devoured. Their final thoughts and emotions before they were...gone. Their death throes forever ingrained within his mind, along with the feel of the swarm’s claws. Its teeth as they gnashed against flesh and bone. Ghostly sensations the Khala had left upon him, to know how it felt to be eaten alive. 

A shuddered breath exhaled out, eyes opened again to peer over a fallen dragoon. A body not so different from the frame Fenix had fought within. Scattered scratches and chunks of metal were missing along the hull. How hard this one nameless warrior battled before they fell for a final time. A hand followed along the deep gashes layered over one side. The inner chamber had been pierced and the power core ruptured. Old scorch marks are still yet visible of where the energies within exploded outwards on the base.

Hand withdrawn and he’d rise up to his feet. Again he looked out over this forgotten battleground. Other bodies were buried by the regrowth of Aiur. Grasses and moss spread over immortals, small trees budded and wound their way from zealots. Many of the zerg bones have since decomposed and all that was left is these rusted remnants of protoss. The grim reminder of failure.

As the Conclave before him had...and he refused to make such a mistake again. 

Artanis would pause as his attention shifted, eyes flicked over to another body that still left its taint. Another war that was far fresher within his mind’s eye. Bodies like this still scattered and wound the earth beneath his feet. Where no grass grew and the dirt looked dead…

The desiccated corpse of a hybrid towered before him. Grafted from the bodies of both protoss and zerg, it’s dried out husk of a body an ink stained smear against the greens of Aiur. Void energies sparked over its talons...even after all these years. Amon’s darkness refused to leave his abominations. It’s eyes hollow and unseeing, no longer a threat but it was as if its own body refused to end the fight, when it had been long lost. A chill clung to the air the closer Artanis came, a threat yet remained in an aura so thick it suffocated. One of which he did not yet understand…

He will have to send out his forces to see that these corpses were dealt with, if they still posed a threat to their world. But the way those eyes still stared, unblinking from an empty skull...a whisper floated within the air. Unheard, even by him but he felt it as it crawled across his back. Tingled into where his nerve cords had once been and stung against the cut ends. It felt as if the beast laughed at him with how the air churned, as tension built and spilled out. The world seemed to tilt towards one side, inky black weaved and stained the very edges of his vision. This abomination...it gloated at him while it laid dead at his feet. A darkness crept and spilled out from it’s ghoulish grin like a wave of tar. It stuck and clutched, it reached and clawed out for all around it…

Inky talons grabbed around his legs and with a surprised jolt he found himself falling away into darkness. An abyss awned beneath him that twisted and consumed his legs. A wicked chill raced up his legs, over his waist and chest. It blackened out his vision. So quickly he had no time to let out a sound, not even a gasp. From the dark as it began to choke him he saw eyes that stared back. Three blindingly white eyes blazed with a hatred so intense he’d only seen it once before. He wished to scream and shout back at whatever was there but his voice was snuffed. Silenced in the ink and he began to slip, lungs burned and screamed for air. He heard himself choke and gag, struggle for air...

Within the next moment the drip of water startled him awake.

Awake…?

At what point had he fallen asleep? Artanis’ eyes squinted upwards to the brightened skies of morning’s light. Scattered clouds and birds above. The pressure of a tree against his back and the tickle of grass beneath him. Confusion sparked as he stared off to the corpse he had looked over before, the body of a hybrid. Umoving. Dead. As it was that night. 

A nervous exhale slipped from him, a hand dragged over his face to wipe away the collected dew. Maybe he had fallen asleep without realizing it, stressed and toiled over what was to come. It had bubbled over in those late hours. It took a moment longer to let the rest of himself wake before he returned to his feet. Talons dug down into the dirt and he strained to push himself up onto his knees first. His legs slowly followed. A stumbled step and a quick grab onto the tree behind him he straightened to a stand. Artanis cast another glance to the dried husk...blue eyes narrowed with unspoken questions that held no answers. 

The only explanation to what he had seen was nothing more than a nightmare. He had forgotten the moment he had settled to sleep out in the wilds. Not uncommon choice of his when the stillness of the trees eased his mind. But it was as if something else found him that night…

Those eyes...

The wonder of those eyes left behind a chilled mark...one that tingled against his severed cords. A numbness. Or a threat hung up in the air and left just at the back of his mind.

No matter the message or the intention left behind, he will not let the fears and horrors of the past so quickly halt his plans. If anything it solidified the need to protect a world that is still so fragile. A people that danced on the brink of oblivion. Much like the fallen warriors around him, he must battle with all his heart for his people.

Whatever those eyes may have been he turned himself to return to the city. His lack of return that night would’ve spurred the worry of his executors. Nor could he call upon the fleet to warp him in this state. Soaked from a rain in the night and covered in mud. Unsightly for someone who called themself Hierarch. The words he would’ve received if any found him in such a state…

The sun was still hidden and barely peeked over the edge of distant mountains. It was early and he had more than enough time to sneak back unseen. Well, by relatively few eyes.

-

In time Hierarch Artanis found himself aboard the Arkship once more. The Spear of Adun lazily orbited Aiur as warriors began to warp aboard, prepared for Artanis’ call of service.

It brought a sense of joy to see so many faces he recognized from the battles against Amon, yet it too brought dread. Regret. Faces that volunteered for battle again that deserved to find respite. The marks of said war laid bare over their faces, their bodies and for some across their armor. Yet there was a buzz of excitement in the air, boisterous shouts echoed further down the halls. He listened to the sounds of blades ignited in explosive flares when excitement all but burst from a select few. Mayhaps it is not the quiet life many of them seek, for so many of them had lost their own purpose with the war’s end.

It was likely their faces he had seen walking the streets, despondent and empty. The stillness of a calm life was not one for such souls. Those that sought the rush of their blade cutting into a foe, the heat of success. Or they chased the honorable death it would inevitably bring...they were of a warrior race, the beating heart of fury. The honor to fall in combat against another of equal or greater skill.

Silence however fell over his own shoulders and he drifted across the bridge of his ship. Where he looked out towards the world above as a pair of carriers came to join next to the Arkship. He too would catch the shapes of void rays...Vorazun’s hunters that are to follow with them. A quizzical scrunch of his brows in the appearance of such ships. Decorated and painted over with the shapes of...skulls? One more so than the others. Hunters indeed as they soared over the bridge. Trails of void energies churned after their engines with rolled ribbons. Certain that their pilots peered down at him as he watched their aerobatics past transparent shielding. He will be introduced to them in time once all have settled and the smaller ships have docked with the Hierarch’s flagship.

Many more have answered than anticipated as again he looked out towards more ships. Shapes that broke through the atmosphere in wild trails. He picked out more than a handful of cocky phoenix pilots. Such antics brought what a protoss could call a grin, cheeks scrunched back and eyes narrowed with amusement. The glitter of their sleek forms graced the space before him. How they rushed and burned their boosters to twist around the outside of one carrier. Artanis did not need the Khala for the feelings of those within the cockpits to be understood.

It was not such a long time ago that he had been one of them…

There was a sense of freedom to dance amongst the clouds, nothing but the wings of a phoenix and the roar of its engine. Clouds that parted and were cut away by its power. An emotion that fluttered within the back of his mind and rushed into his heart. Where it yearned to thrum with such a roar.

“Hierarch!”

A voice broke into his mind that brought him sudden pause. Artanis whirled on the voice as his eyes grew wider, “Phase-smith Karax? Why have you come aboard?” Concern drew his brows together. “I had made myself clear that my Executors and yourself were to remain here upon Aiur, I shall not risk your lives.”

“I could not in good conscience let you go out without a proper phase-smith to care for the ship! After all these years passed, only I know the limits the Spear of Adun can be pushed,” a flare of his prosthetic claws reached out into the air as Karax stepped up closer. Insistent. A frustrated twist fluttered into the air as the phase-smith held back a rush of emotion. Psionics crackled within the claws that hovered and kept near. Not fully hidden below the surface but Artanis could easily pluck it out of the air.

The Hierarch offered a gentle sigh, one that shifted into a short chuckle. A hand rose and waved away the claws that clicked in the air. “Ease yourself, Friend Karax. I have my doubts I will be able to remove you from the ship. Now that you are here,” the one hand soon fell, thumped against one of the smith’s shoulders. A gentle shake. “See to it that the ship is prepped and ready for jump. It has been some years since the core has been used to such a degree. Once the fleet has gathered I intend to begin our hunt for the ghost post-haste.”

The talons that floated in the air fell away with Karax’s face pulled into a grin, eyes squeezed shut, “Understood, Hierarch. You still had not answered who you had planned to tend to the Spear!”

A brief pause, blue eyes narrowed upon the shorter protoss to regard the...answer, “A young nerazim who had quickly learned the skills of phase-smiths before him. Zangel’eos was their name.” Artanis could hardly contain the snort at Karax’s bristled psionics. The terror...fear, pure anxiety? Of someone else to have been left at the helm of this ship was visibly written across the other’s face. Blue crept across his cheeks and it appeared as though he would explode! Puffed noises, sounds of steamed water as it whistled out of a kettle.

“See that your...new assistant is properly tended to, Karax,” a little more firm in his tone to nudge the khalai into action. Artanis listened to the click of those talons again as they snapped back behind the smith.

“O-of course!” Karax chirruped with a firm nod, “I’ll get right on it!”

With such swiftness the other departed, Artanis certain he heard idle remarks muttered just below the other’s breath. None loud enough for the Hierarch to catch of course but he couldn’t help but grin. Cheeks scrunched back and head tilted to regard the exchange that had just occurred. But the day was not finished yet with another surprise. 

From the lift an all too familiar figure rose up. For a second his anger sparked but it was an emotion that is quickly snuffed with an exasperated noise. “Friend Talandar..,” Artanis called out and let his feet guide him closer. “It appears that another has disobeyed my wishes for them to stay upon Aiur.”

The purifier’s laugh boomed from beyond the large body, visor thinned into a squint that could either be playful or a threat, “En taro Adun Artanis!” Talandar crowed his greeting, the platform of the bridge shuddered against his every step. “Hierarch! For you to rush into battle once more without myself at your side wounds me!” A bladed hand thrusted upwards with emphasis. “I yearn for the days to join you again in battle, together our blades will strike down whoever stands against us!”

The Hierarch looked less amused and shuffled to the side to allow Talandar passage further onto the bridge, “I too, old friend, but understand my reluctance to have too many of my leadership depart from Aiur.”

“Matriarch Vorazun had insisted that I pursue you on your quest for this ghost.”

Artanis paused mid step and he snapped an irritated glint in the purifier’s direction, “This would explain Karax’s presence also aboard the Spear of Adun.”

Talandar’s head canted upwards and the light of his visor drifted to the side, to stare down where he’d arrived from. Acknowledgement that he had just passed the phase-smith before coming up onto the bridge. “Even if she had not requested I join you I would have made my way aboard, young Hierarch. Nothing shall stand in the way of my blades when it is my friend who challenges a foe!” His words boomed out and one of his front legs thumped against the bridge. Artanis could hear the grin in those words, how the purifier burst with excitement. Enough to make that large body bounce with every step.

“You act as though you are a youngling again, Friend Talandar,” a quick quip from Artanis.

Another loud thud from the metal chassis of Talandar as he turned towards Artanis, bladed hand thrusted upwards, “Do you not feel the excitement also? To trudge forwards into the unknown once more, as though we are no more than Zealots again! The only trust is to the one next to us, their blade a certainty and only an abyss before our eyes. To again stand at your side, Artanis is a joyous occasion I shall not squander!”

The other’s enthusiasm tempered the irritation as it bubbled below the surface and calmed the uncertainties. A nod is offered to him and a grin pulled into his cheeks, “Together we shall battle again, Talandar. Your encouragement will aid in quelling my uncertainty. As it has in the past through the times against Amon.”

“Tassadar taught you well, Artanis! Whatever decisions you have made and continue to make for the protoss is a choice I too follow. Without question!” Another roar erupted from the purifier followed by a loud tang of metal slamming into metal. Thudding the grasping hand against his hull twice. “You have grown into a grand leader over these years, to this day I am proud to call you my friend and my Hierarch, Artanis. Do not allow your doubts to falter your choices. Lead from your heart as you always have.”

“The same can be said of you, Talandar,” Artanis gazed out towards those gathered upon the bridge, a hum of thought danced into the air. “As much as I had desired that you remained upon Aiur, I do find myself relieved that you disobeyed me. Karax as well. I feel no doubt that we shall find the one that threatens us and see to its defeat.”

“Together we are at our strongest, Artanis!” a bark of encouragement again burst from Talandar. “Lead us unto victory, Hierarch.”

Artanis’ hand thudded against one of the armored legs as he passed Talandar by, a bow of his head in agreement. Slow steps lead him up towards the end of the bridge and he regarded the collected Templar there. An interesting group had collected here, to watch the initial embark of the Arkship. Or simply admired the small fleet around them. Nerazim mixed amongst Templar, the flash of a red gaze did catch his attention. A Tal’darim turncoat amongst those that answered? He gave them just as much respect as any other deserved.

A quick warp of blue energy rushed up over his form. It took him upwards to a higher platform that overlooked the bridge below. A vast view of his world laid before him and the gathered fleet. With many more that approached from Aiur, another pair of carriers and a fleet of Tempests. The might of the Daelaam was to fall upon this ghost.

Talons clicked against each other with his hands coming in behind his back, head leaned back to look up to the carriers above. A rush of pride flooded up from his chest and manifested into a short spark over his armor. Cheeks pushed into a grin with a hint of the excitement from below caught into his own psionics. Their hearts thrummed together with one wish and they needed no Khala to understand one another in this moment. Their home which so many have fallen for was in danger and they all have come together to defend her.

To defend friends and family, to find retribution for those that have fallen already. Many may have lost those they have cared for in these recent times.

With this his psionics spiked and latched onto the systems of the ship, with a quick step he turned to those upon the bridge. A glance is flicked across them and out to the ships beyond the shields.

Chest puffed with pride as his voice spoke out, it flooded down the halls of the Arkship and reached out to the ships beyond, “It brings me great joy to see so many to have answered the call. All of you already know that many of our ships beyond this system have gone missing. Many souls lost to an unknown force, one that has laid out a threat to our livelihoods. I do not know what dangers may arise in these coming days. What I do know is the fury of the Daelaam, whether you are Nerazim, Templar or even Tal’darim, it is our conviction to guard those that stand at our sides.” A hand thrust upwards, psi-blade ignited with a blue flare. “As one we shall strike. For Aiur!”

Through the chamber he stood in he felt the vibration of others shout in unison with him. Their blades thrusted into the air to join him in a wave of blues, scattered greens and a small collection of red. A rush of energetic psionics sparked in the air, a flood of emotion amassed together through the crowd on just the bridge. But he felt it across the entirety of his ship. Thousands of voices joined together in their roar.

Artanis dragged in a deep breath, cheeks pushed into a grin as he let this moment float there. Eyes closed to feel the thrum rush over his ship. But a second before he turned again to look upon Aiur...just one more time.

“Let our voices be heard! Throughout the stars! Ki nala atum! We are ready! Take us forward.” He looked on as the space around his home distorted and tore away. Warped away to begin their journey.


	2. The Hunt Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -  
> Gore Warning towards the end  
> -  
> So drawing a comic is allot of work and will take me a hella long time to do. I have the urge to write far more often, thus I will try to place a little more time into writing than staring at a blank canvas for hours LOL.  
> Also, maybe it is just me...this still feels like a far too slow of a build up.  
> Enjoy tho~  
> -

Spear of Adun: Some hours later...

The halls still yet buzzed with energy, an excitement that blazed through those that amassed aboard the Arkship. It was common to hear the idle spark or snap of psionics against each other in the air. Blues of Khalai and Templar alike, weaved and crackled across flourishes of green energies. Or the stronger clash of reds. How they all danced together along the blue energy lines of the ship, clutched onto the robes and armor of those that passed beneath their veil. Vibrant nets of psionics that added a wild flare to the arched hallways. 

Beneath these nets is where sparks danced after the feet of those that walked past, or fluttered around the groups that conversed amongst their companions. Energy that still continued to manifest with such intensity they appeared as wisps that tailed their master. Braided together they left behind ribbonlike trails of their color of origin, or mixed into others.

The ship itself strained with the amplified psionic surge from the rush of residents. A light here and there sparked and glowed far too bright or an unfortunate probe wobbled in the air after getting zapped a little too hard. Arced strikes ripped through the air higher up in the towering halls, not so different from High Templar storms. It forced the small drone constructs to skitter away and dodge the chaos in their continued duties. They beeped and clicked their protests to those that listened, or fussed amongst themselves.

It was an incredible sight to behold, even for the Hierarch as his steps led him down the halls. For above him it looked as though it was stained glass, but of a kind that ever shifted and changed. A burst of emotion here and there would change its balance. Nerazim and Tal’darim outbursts scattered the sheets of blue with greens and reds. Blended their energies together to then forge variations of that blue, radiant greens...or vivid purples. He however was slower and far quieter than the rush of rowdy crowds aboard his flagship. His psionics stilled and quiet beneath the surface.

Even with his own emotions tempered and stilled, he was hardly bothered by the far more intense physical manifestations of emotion. For him and many others, this had been the closest to their Khala any will experience again. While the net of emotion remained they all felt connected, they all felt the tingle of another’s thoughts. Words of joy and excitement, the rushed burn of devotion so easily plucked from the air. Templar, Nerazim and Tal’darim all shared the same moment, their heart beat as one.

This energy brought a grin to his face, cheeks bunched up and added the friendly curve to his eyes. It had been some many years since he had seen his people so joyous. To look dedicated upon the path now laid before them. A path that he had to plan for.

This surge of positivity will only last so long and they too were aware of how battle can go. So quickly could it turn around upon them and drive them back into a corner. Would it be one that they can escape from? Time shall tell. For the sake of Aiur and all that they have left behind, they had better be stronger than this foe.

His heavy step and stronger, yet condensed psionic aura often quelled the clustered groups of noisy protoss. Their hushed murmurings of greeting and again the quick sparked excitement as they’d shuffle away. It was as if his own psionics brought a very brief order to the chaotic air around him, for as Hierarch he had to hold the demand for respect. Even within friendly interactions with Talandar, or any he has allowed into that immediate circle...but such respect was also just as readily returned.

At least to those that had earned it.

Quietly and steadily he winded down the halls with a destination in mind. Where he followed a scent so subtle it tickled against his senses. Of air fresher than what is recycled throughout the ship... a slight sweetness. Albeit it was not quite like the wilds of Aiur, it came close enough, this place in mind. A space for him to find a moment of peace.

Some time after the war against Amon, sections of the Arkship that were damaged in the final assault were repaired and converted. Changed into a vast greenhouse where the first seeds of Aiur’s renewal were planted. All of the jungles that now flourished across their home were cultivated here. From the smallest of grasses to the most grandeur of trees were grown to maturity. More came with time and with dedication. As a result, the Spear of Adun acquired its own ecosystem and a handful of caretakers that remained aboard. Those that continued to cultivate and grow further plantlife to return to their home world, the Haru Adarie is what many began to call them. Honored soaring spirits. For they chose to remain aboard the Arkship and not return to Aiur below.

Protoss whose ambitious natures brought renewed life to the dirt of Aiur again. They alone brought the first small sapling that he and many others watched grow in the span of weeks. Nurtured into the great tree that now towered within the center of new Aldera. From one seed grasses cloaked over the plains, flowers budded towards the great star and more trees swelled into the clouds. They covered many of the scars left behind by the swarm’s claws.

But it wasn’t just plants that were returned within this place, but many of the fauna. Creatures that had resided upon Aiur prior to the swarm. Numerous beasts all but devoured in the wild. Many of the Haru Adarie set themselves to repair the native fauna with cryo-frozen embryos and genetic sequences saved amongst the archives. Even after fifty solar returns, they still had a great deal to heal yet.

Artanis pulled in a breath of humid air when the doors pulled open and he was greeted by towering trees, rough ferns and grasses. The sweet scent that had tickled against his senses now all but overwhelmed him. Floral in origin and quickly he discovered the reasoning. Scattered along the clean cut pathways were pots that hovered in the air. Each filled with newly bloomed flowers and many he had not seen before. New seeds that would’ve been handed off on the last warp down to Aiur.

As if hesitant, he faltered to step further into the vivarium and a foot hovered off the ground. He wished to enter...and yet another part of him stopped him, froze him in his place. Maybe awestruck by all that changed since his last visit or the uncertainty of the safety of a place now sacred. How could he charge into war when the livelihood of a number of families now existed upon this ship? From here the life of Aiur was born, should he not also take into consideration their life? This life. The work that has been placed within the halls of this ship. As if it were far more visible now than it had been in previous years. Blue psionics buzzed up into his shoulder plates and raced along the edges of his armor. A spark that snapped and stung against the ends of his nerve cords. It lured a brief yet pained hiss from the Hierarch and his head bowed to the side, brows knitted together.

A gentle thud as his foot came down and he ushered away the uncertainty once more with a deep breath. He must remain sure of himself and steadfast. The Spear of Adun was still a warship, a key component to the power of the Daelaam.

Brows slowly knitted further together as blue eyes flicked across the greenery before him. A mental nudge and a physical psionic crack over the backs of his feet pushed himself forwards. One step after the other out onto the path he drifted quietly once more. The chirrup of birds above lured his attention here and there where he’d catch the glimpse of bright feathers. A creature hidden behind leaves or something that skittered along the ground as it plucked up seeds or sliced up fruit. Wildlife that were amongst the first to be returned to the skies of Aiur.

Their eyes watched him with just as much curiosity as he did in return. How their heads twitched and turned one way and another before they shuffled onto whatever could be of more importance.

As for him, he evaded what other eyes he’d catch between the layered green. Not that he could properly hide with the shine of white and gold of his ornate armor, nor the flourish of his cape behind him.

An unbeaten path between a set of trees is one he’d choose, steps only he knew to take from past excursions. A path that winded beneath thickets and draped branches, where twigs and leaves caught and scratched over his armor. Snagged in places and he faltered into one step as the sound of a tear rushed up from behind him. Thorns have overtaken sections of this path, he felt them against his greaves...and his cape unfortunately had lost a battle with one such talon. Jagged spines had caught and tore through a portion of the fabric. Golden, red and white threads dragged over the dirt. They teared further and pulled apart a section with every movement he made.

With a sigh a brief flicker of thankfulness bubbled to the surface. At least the nerazim Matriarch had remained behind on Aiur.

The endless-

“Tirades I will thrust upon you, young Hierarch?”

Artanis snapped to attention in an instant, back bristled straight and his eyes rounded out. Only a few paces had remained till he’d stepped out beyond the brush to his ‘secret retreat’.

Not so secret when a select Nerazim had found her way here. Had she followed him from the shadows? From the first step aboard the ship? No, she must have boarded with her hunters. Caught him on his way to the vivarium and remained cloaked. Normally he could pick out the wave of void psionics from those tucked in the shade, but the chaotic energies across the ship had offered a veil for her. Muted out his senses...

With a hard sigh he stared on a moment...yet another has less than openly disobeyed his order to remain upon Aiur.

“Your thoughts are unguarded, Artanis, and so easily grabbed from around you,” Vorazun’s voice hummed into the air, a sense of pleased content filtered through her psionics.

Artanis let a brief spark of his own outrage creep up once he managed an ounce of thought after the initial shock, “Shall none of my Executors obey commands I have set down for them? Or must I assume that they are only suggestions?” A wild blue crackle rushed along the arcs of his floating back piece. Rippled between the joints and it threatened to flare to life before the emotion was quelled. A sharp shake of his head as he’d deadpan, the anger lingered and tempered itself into spun irritation. His energies nearly vibrated through the blue gems that decorated his armor, like a turbulent sea they churned together. 

His steps felt heavier once he broke past the ferns and led himself out onto an outlook on the edge of the vivarium. Where the shield separated empty space from the artificial jungle.

“We all understand how bold you can be, Artanis,” she spoke, green eyes focused upon him as she remained settled over the grasses. Her hands coming together to placate the anger in the Hierarch with a gesture, “How willing you are to leap onto the blade that threatens to eradicate us, without looking back behind you to the allies you have attained. Those that desire to help. It is you who speaks of unity so openly and for our people to come together, but it is you who also stands apart. Alone.”

Her words rang partly true and he did not voice his complaint...yet. His psionics did trill with the restraint to not bark back against her, an anxious energy that made the air heavy. It too sparked with the Matriarch’s psionics, like a twisted chain she held her own unspoken request that he stayed silent and listened, so he listened. The desire to argue is shoved aside, for now.

But the moment passed had lured a flicker of doubt, uncertainty...he did not charge out alone all the time!...or did he? Certain he had requested aid in enough aspects of his duty as Hierarch.

Vorazun picked out that flutter of doubt, a short jolt in his psionic aura that freely projected itself. Her eyes curved with a friendly and amused grin, yet her tone remained stern, “You do not need to charge forward unto battle on your own, Hierarch. You have guided us all back home, given one to both us Nerazim and the few Tal’darim that have stayed. You alone began to forge the stepping stones for all of us to be as one people. A mixture of cultures, a fact that took me a great deal of time to come to terms with,” she paused a moment and held a hand out to her side. She offered a place to sit if he so chose to, but she still plucked the Hierarch’s temper from air. The subtle sparks of blue and the heated resistance it brought, “Let us repay your efforts with our aid, Artanis.”

His psionics remained bristled and coiled all around him, with how the air sparked here and there. A slow exhale as that tension is expelled and he’d relent to her own wisdom. With one step and a heavier thud as a knee connected to the ground. He tipped back and came down with one final thump onto his butt. An incredulous flutter churned into his psionic presence and his head shook once.

Artanis again stilled his emotions and stifled them beneath the surface, “You speak truths, Matriarch.”

“More than truths, Artanis,” a lulled remark as she studied him.

Blue eyes narrowed upon her and again his psionics sparked, as though he were to speak. Words that spun within the weaved blue energies but not yet voiced out. He thought about what should be spoken. Should they be voiced out or left to hover within the blues that danced across his armor? Artanis let the silence remain as he’d snap his attention out towards the stars that zipped past the ship. Whirled colors of warp as they continued on. He evaded as much of her attention as one possibly could whilst in her presence. A breath drew in as his face pulled into the discomfort and the burn of her gaze, face scrunched and brows knitted. As rude as it was to force a change in topic through silence alone, he felt her psionic prods. Attempts to see past the veil of calmness he pushed outwards. Artanis did not wish to speak on this matter she now pressured him into.

But in all his years spent as Hierarch has taught him that the Matriarch of the Nerazim was one who did not relent. He will...humor her.

“Do I wish to know what is meant by this, Vorazun? As it appears our discussion from the other night has not yet ended,” a forced break in the silence as he exhaled, head turned to face her again. The emotional wall did not falter in his words, if anything he ensured it was strengthened. He had not come here to banter or to have philosophical conversation. Still irate that she too was aboard the Arkship and had ignored his command to remain behind.

It meant Selendis led his people without any further assistance. Yes, he had taught her much over these years. But she remained just as hot headed as when she first came under his teaching. By the gods he hoped that she kept that short fuse tempered in these days to come...

The Nerazim looked on for a moment as she debated on her response, talons curled and brushed against the blades of grass below, “Beyond your duties as Hierarch, you are incredibly aloof,” She began, green eyes flicked out towards the crafted jungle. “Or have become so with the loss of the Khala. Your whereabouts are unknown after discussions are finished or any other necessities that require you. You have segregated yourself. You stand off...alone.”

Her gaze fell back onto him, a glimmer of something danced within her psionics. A ripple of green that caressed through her nerve cord clamps and dipped down the silks there, “It would be a lie if I spoke that the others of your council do not worry for you.”

“How I conduct myself in private shouldn’t be a place of worry or debate amongst my Executors,” a sharp snort burst from him, a flash of exasperated sparks filtered into the air. A wound net of blue that warbled and weaved along the Hierarch’s back, where it threatened to break past that built wall.

“No, but your vigilantism certainly is a place of contingency, Hierarch,” a sharp tone flooded the air with a green wash and her eyes bored into him, “Do not think your actions have gone unnoticed by us, Artanis. You who have quelled much of the uprising efforts for a false Khala. Stilled internal unrest before they ever became too great to come to our attention. Certainly more than this in these many solar cycles, but these are the few we grew acutely aware of.”

He balked at her words and accusations, but as much as he willed up a flood of psionics to snap back...he stopped. Artanis had been caught. Blue eyes flicked away and towards the greenery around them as his face pulled into a perceived scowl.

“You push yourself much too hard, Artanis. It was a mutual agreement between all of us, when we heard the call to arms, that we will board this ship,” Her head tilted a little to one side as she let her psionics again prod at the Hierarch’s field.

“I do what I must as Hierarch, Vorazun,” he retorted quickly and a zap of blue energy pushed back against her green, “Including battles unseen by my Executors. I have handled such affairs on my own well enough to warrant no assistance.”

A gentle nudge again from her psionics before a green pane manifested within the air. Where it curved in to turn his face back toward hers. With a bit of resistance from him she would continue, “Yes...and because of this mindset we knew just what you intended to do, to charge forth, on your own once more. To bear the full weight of the Hierarchy upon your shoulders, as you have before. Repeatedly. We feared you would not return from it this time if you had no aid. The blade that you face will cut through you.”

“I have my suspicions that it was they that sent you to speak with me on this matter?” he muttered, words that were barely audible as he’d pull his face from the green pane.

“Yes, as we are more than just advisors, Artanis. Do not let your bullheadedness lead you astray and forget those around you,” Vorazun shifted her weight and with a single movement lifted up onto her feet. In a step she approached closer and extended a hand to press against one pauldron. To apply a gentle nudge against him. “And Artanis, do try to find something more than your duty to the Daelaam to fill the void in your Khala.”

He regarded her words with a heavy sigh and pushed a smile to his features as the scowl softened. One hand rose up and he’d ease hers away from his shoulder, a ripple rushed through his psionics as he...deliberated. An internal struggle brewed and violently it tore into the blue gems of his armor, “I…” his face pulled as he paused, a shake of his head followed. “Matriarch Vorazun, respectively, I had wished that you all remained behind. To have asked more from each of you was not my intention nor something I had desired. This perceived blade will not strike me down, none before have done so. Including the will of the dark god.”

“And I, respectively, choose to assist when trouble once more brews for our people,” she returned as she’d straighten away from him, “To also ensure a friend of mine does not overwork himself to death.”

Unlike her, he remained settled over the grass and eased to rest back against a hand, “I do digress to previous comments that my...actions within private hours are of my own accord. I would not call myself a ‘vigilante’ because of them,” He felt the air sharply twist with judgement and her scrutiny fell upon him as green eyes narrowed. Her psionics grew nearly violent as they flared over her silks and he felt the sting from a short jolt of green. A change in topic was his next choice of action. Before he incurred more of her ire, “Now I am to assume that you are to take command of your hunters once we arrive on the edge of the Koprulu Sector?”

Vorazun glared down at him as her own face pulled into one of irritation. Silence crept across the area before she’d ease her head into a gentle nod, she will have further words with him later. For now she reeled in the energies around her before she addressed his question, “My Dark Templar will join me in our efforts to track the ghost. I have also gone and adjusted our destination to where the last attack occurred. The warp rifts may yet be traced from whatever ships this ghost must have used for travel. To strike down even our mightiest of ships would require a great deal of fire power...thus it is likely our foe has left tracks within the metaphorical snow.”

“Already taking command of my own ship as well, Vorazun,” he remarked with a raised brow.

“Only suggestions,” she returned with spurred amusement, “Your phase-smith had devised this plan, so perhaps you should speak with him.”

A quick snort followed into a nod as he turned his gaze back out to the waves of warp, churned space as they tore through it. Blue psionics sparked down over his back and into the swooped arcs that hovered behind him. Quietly he hummed again, “The first steps to finding our quarry have been taken but with you all aboard the Spear of Adun, I feel as though there is far more risk now,” a loose sigh as his brows knitted together.

“No greater risk than if our own Hierarch sought the enemy without us,” Vorazun quipped. “Va’run ruul asz, Artanis. Rest and be prepared for what is to come.” She departed with a bow of her head and with hardly a sound she disappeared amongst the trees.

His gaze turned to follow her and looked on to the now empty area for a passing moment. With a lengthy sigh he unceremoniously fell back with a thud. Talons tangled downward into blades of grass and nudged into the dirt. There he lay as a swarm of emotion tugged up from his heart. Frustration, irritation and an anger that blazed. Together it brewed a storm that threatened to engulf him.

He had lost enough friends over these years. From the zerg swarm to Amon’s corruption of the Khala. So many have fallen...now he pushed every ounce of himself to ensure the safety of the few he had left.

But here they all were, joint forces to stand with him against an unknown foe.

Blue sparks rushed over the curves of his armor and splintered into solidified spikes. Jagged slivers of his psionics built over his shoulder plates and momentarily glued the swooped amplifiers. A hand dragged deep grooves through the dirt and lifted up to come to press against his brows. Draped across his face as it scrunched back. A snarl dug into his features, eyes narrowed before they squeezed shut.

Slowly a sputtered hiss escaped him, head dipped back and his hand dragged downwards. It followed the slope of his face and caught on the tip of his chin, where two of his talons remained hooked. Eyes pulled open again to gaze upwards and they followed the path of trees. To where light from the solar core filtered down through branches and foliage. Even the warmth of this light offered no comfort as it normally would’ve. It felt cold against his skin and it prickled down his back.

It made him feel sick.

Artanis’ psionics bristled further. Blue crystals crept over his shoulders and weaved over his chest plate. Wicked and painful tugs against his heart as distress flooded the air.

He could not end their endeavour to hunt for their foe now. To suddenly turn back on his word after so many have rallied? No, he couldn’t do so, no matter how much it may pain him later on.

He must endure.

With a lengthy exhale the sharpened crystals began to disperse. A fizzle of chaotic blues in the shape of a static wave spread away from him. It singed the grass around him and burnt a few leaves of nearby bushes where it rippled strongest. A rush of emotions made manifest that the Hierarch struggled to rein in.

How was he to rest when so many of his fears hovered over his head?

When the screams within the Khala’s void roared loudest.

Bridge of the Spear: Three days later…

An air of seriousness crept across the Arkship the days that followed. The weight of an unseen war had begun to settle upon the shoulders of the Daelaam, for now it tempered their excitement. It left the air heavy with a bubbled anxiousness. Yes, there still remained that joy for battle as any born of a warrior heart should, but to face the unknown faltered the weaker willed. They remained steadfast...however their psionics betrayed them with projected nervousness. Doubts and fears…

A dulled buzz that floated after these weary individuals down the arced halls.

This air too tugged over the Hierarch’s form, his talons followed the curve of the celestial array as he stepped away to the far end of the bridge. The first footprint upon the unseeable snow was just a mere moment away and the ship shuddered as it prepared to drop from warp. Space twisted sharply and an opening pulled apart before the Spear’s bow. He looked on when churned stars came to a stand still and the dark of space pulled its veil across them. In a blink they dropped out of warp upon a sight he did not anticipate.

Whatever may have remained of the protoss ships that were once here have since been deconstructed and salvaged. The culprits? A relatively small fleet of what appeared to be Terrans. They however did not resemble the most common of ships he had grown accustomed to, with their sloped designs and sleeker shapes. No longer entirely built of a box or the cluttered appearance that many other terran ships possessed. It was evident these humans have benefited from the frequent attacks upon his people. It left him to question...how many ships have gone missing and never recovered because of this group? A loss of life and now evidently a loss of material as well.

The wave of outrage that washed out around him made him falter briefly with a quick blink, thoughts being silenced.

“The Terrans desecrate our ships!” He heard a shout from a platform above him, psionics crackled to life in arced blue from one individual in particular.

“What if it has been them attacking our people?” Another roar elsewhere upon the bridge.

“These lesser races need to learn their place! How dare they take from those that have died for them!”

“These humans have crossed the demilitarized zone to steal from us! Their audacity should be punished!”

Artanis’ face pulled into uncertainty as further rage from his templar boiled over whilst his own simmered beneath the surface. Yes, he was just as infuriated by the underhanded theft of protoss ships and a mental note had been left. He will deal with this group in particular later on. For their ‘tribe’ was marked across the hulls of these ships. An encircled black and white star. His few connections that remained amongst the Terrans will know who they were. But little can now be done for what had been taken, he must remain focused on the true enemy. Any divergence from their goal may risk further devastation! 

The back piece of his armor flared to life with a snapped click, blue crackles filtered over it and his voice soon boomed out, “Be calm, brothers and sisters! See reason and do not allow your rage to so quickly cloud your judgements. It is visibly evident that the Terrans have stolen our ships, but I doubt it is they that have instigated aggressions,” Blue eyes snapped out across the bridge and his sharpened stare tempered down the rage of those present. “They are a race built upon opportunities. In their daring to take from us, mayhaps they also have answers for our questions. Hail them, for I wish to speak to these thieves.”

Silence crept over the room as they all waited to see if the Terrans would respond. Their ships had placed a significant distance between the armada and Artanis could pick out the ignited engines powered up for warp. Yet they faltered to flee, an action that confused him. Nor had there been a flare of weapon activation to retaliate.

A short crackle of energy rushed above the consoles and a haggard individual appeared above. One did not need to stand within the same room to see the nervousness spread across her face. Creases tugged from her lips and pulled against the edges of her eyes. Brows knitted and digged deeper together once the weight of whom they now spoke to slammed upon their shoulders. Otherwise they appeared well kept, a clean cut uniform of whites, curved black and blue markings.

“Protoss vessels, I am Captain Redonna Cavail of the Umojan Protectorate division of Security. We are an unarmed reconnaissance fleet and we request amnesty for crossing the DMZ. If punishment is still demanded, I take full responsibility for all present,” she had straightened and put on a brave face, but one could still see past the illusion. This terran still felt fear.

Artanis kept silent and allowed her to speak, his gaze watchful and occasionally he caught a glimpse of others behind her. From what could be seen, there was a frantic air upon her own bridge. Her subordinates scampered behind her and rushed around within the shadows, hinted silhouettes. Talons slowly hooked behind his back as he stepped closer to the screen, “Pleased to meet you, Captain Redonna Cavail, I am Hierarch Artanis of the Daelaam. The crossing of the demilitarized zone shall be overlooked in regards to higher priorities, Captain,” he pushed a grin into his face to ease the tension currently brewed. “Do not fear...for I shall not seek punishment, so long as such behaviors are curbed. I desire for no aggressions between our people.”

A hand then pulled away to lift up as he offered a hand out, “But I cannot overlook that ships of my own have gone missing, Captain Redonna.” A crackle of blue danced over his back again, friendly features muted as eyes narrowed upon her, “I have lost many souls to an unknown foe across these stars. With how quickly your fleet prepared to warp away speaks that you have come across a similar danger. One that has driven your Umojan Protectorate to take measures that are deemed drastic? Such as the theft of my ships.” His hand motioned out towards the fragments, face pulled into his brief spark of annoyance.

An emotion that is quickly snapped into the back of his mind.

She’d react as he anticipated. Humans were incredibly articulate in their own expressions, it often betrayed them of their inner thoughts. For she was startled, widened gaze and faltered movement before she spoke. His accusation hit the mark, “This...this is correct, Hierarch. I was under orders to search and return the remains of protoss ships. To combat what has driven many of us from outposts that border the DMZ.”

A quick nod of his head, so it seemed that the Terrans have dealt with this ghost already, “My people now hunt for this adversary, Captain. Whatever knowledge that you may have that pertains to them would be greatly appreciated. In return there shall be no pressure for the return of what has been taken. In good faith that these actions come to an end.”

Redonna offered a sharp nod in agreement, “I believe we can work with you on those terms.” Her attention quickly shifted elsewhere as orders were barked. She did not deviate for long and she’d address him again, “We will send what we have captured of the enemy fleet, Hierarch.”

What soon appeared upon the screen lured a wash of anger from the depths, “Tal’darim?!” Artanis couldn’t stop the outburst of rage and surprise, a flurry of emotion roared up his chest. Psionics sparked and danced away from him, joined into the fury of others. Anger clashed into shocked energies from others, particularly of the few Tal’darim aboard. As much as they understood the ferocity of their own people, there remained the underlying wish they’d never have to stand against their own. But the unseen enemy now had a face, a face that was their own kin.

The Hierarch’s glare bored into the blackened steel of the fleet and followed over the jagged spines. Yet, this rage faltered the longer he analyzed the images. These were indeed Tal'darim made, by their sharp angled bodies, but not all were powered by the familiar red void energy. An off-green like that of the Nerazim flowed through other ships. Albeit blurred but visible enough to be plucked out as evidence of something more. 

Another question now hovered into the air, had a new Highlord come into rule? After all these years, it did seem likely Alarak had found his match. A new Highlord would explain a great deal. With increased attacks and a divergent use of tactics. These Tal’darim did not fight like the Tal’darim he’d been accustomed to…

There must still be further pieces of this puzzle to be pulled from the Terran, so he waited. Perhaps whatever else she had to say shall answer more of his unspoken questions.

He would not be wrong as the Captain continued on, “We had believed these attacks were from the Death Fleet, Hierarch, but a distress signal we intercepted only days ago…were from the Tal’darim,” A short pause as her face grimaced with uncertainty. “Our own Commanders are now uncertain as to who may have been the source of these attacks. We understand they are of protoss origin, but we also fear the involvement of the Zerg.”

“It bodes ill for when it is fellow protoss who threaten the lives of others, Captain Redonna,” Artanis’ hand came up and thumped against his chest as the air grew heavier around him, “I care not to end the lives of my own kind, but if it is what must be done then so be it.” Slowly his hand fell away, a sharp spark of anger again crept over him. Eyes narrowed and his head dipped into thought. If it had been a combination of protoss and zerg, then what brought them together? Again, the lack of bodies and entire ships missing. This left more questions now than before! It also started to lure up old fears...

“Captain, I would like to witness this signal your people have captured. If the zerg swarm are also at the head of these attacks, there shall be swift judgement!” He straightened and looked up to her once more, hands balled into fists.

A short pause of silence, the feed from the Captain soon changed to that of a panicked Tal’darim. Alarms blared out around the room as the signal shook against explosive vibrations. Dust scattered over his face and a portion of the ceiling caved down behind him. Rushed psionics sparked into an unstable shielding as more pieces of metal bounced away from it. Huffed noises and the click of talons over glass, his head tilted a little to the side as he overlooked the cave in, “...they...they didn’t make it…,” quietly he muttered to himself, brows knitted together. 

Red energies bloomed out over the console as he attempted to make contact. A ragged breath was pulled in as he struggled to compose himself, “H-highlord!” His voice trembled as an air of doom filtered into the words, “The outpost is lost! They…! They are here!” A quick pause, red eyes rounded out, “...Send! Fak’akum! Send!” snarled fear, talons scraped across shattered screens. 

Beeps clicked away from the device he battled with. His red eyes thinned into a frantic rage and a fist slammed down onto the console. A roar erupted away from him in frustration, head snapped from side to side as icons hovered up into the air. Further clicks and buzzed noises, followed by the hiss of energies. With a quick pause he faltered, his head whipped to stare into a yawning darkness behind him. Frozen there he shuddered and incoherent mumbles fluttered into the air. Nothing was visible. Only broken red lights that sparked and flared with energy. A burst of illumination to break the inky black and flashed over bent steel. Where impacts of the battle above clipped into the pathways of the base.

A higher pitched ding flung upwards, eyes snapped to the screen, “Highlord! Th-this system, this-this world! It is no longer safe, they are here! IT! Is here!” His talons slammed against the controls. “S-send…! Yes...YES!” For a moment he had a reprieve from the fear in a rush of victory. Red psionics danced over him and his face pulled into a grin. Successful in his effort to relay the warning.

What the unfortunate Tal’darim failed to realize was from the awning darkness something squirmed. While he worked on sending the signal the sheen of black flesh unwravelled beyond the opened doorway. Something eclipsed the broken red lights and had crept in closer, hidden just within the hall. An elongated limb spilled out from the ink and lazily hovered in behind the protoss.

Languidly it rolled and churned in the air whilst the Tal’darim spoke. Like a serpent it waited and weaved. With the Tal’darim’s exclaimed elation the limb struck. A smear of dark blues spilled out over the console as they were painted with his blood. Thrust downwards, the Tal’darim is smashed into the controls. Eyes rounded out into shock and a series of surprised choked sounds burbled out of him.

From beyond his belly the limb twisted upwards and split his body further in half. Innards swelled around the opening and pushed out around the tendril. They poured out with a wave of blood to smear across the shattered glass. Thin strings of deep blue flesh caught upon the ridged tendril and followed the length of black. Strings that stretched and tore away as it squirmed up higher. Bones crunched and broke beneath skin as it dragged more of itself through the Tal’darim. A surge of blood poured away from his belly as it climbed upwards. Slowly it wrapped around his neck, wobbled around his head, crest and coiled down over his nerve cords. Gagged sounds broke away from him as shock began to ebb into realization.

The Tal’darim did not scream as the pain struck his nerves, instead he favored gargled snarls. Talons dug down into the limb that pierced through him and in one final flicker of defiance his blades ignited. Red light flared to life as his own voice spat out a roar. His last act of rebellion is cut short on the screen, with the last frame frozen on his gore scattered through the air. Bits of him strewn in deep blue rivulettes and ribbons.

Even the light from the now dismembered red blades in the air did little to illuminate the Tal’darim’s murderer. Red lit up the curve of the black and gore smeared limb as it disappeared into the hall. From there the darkness was like a void, one that consumed any and all light.

Almost nothing was visible…

Nothing but…

Three white eyes.


End file.
